


Backups

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-20 21:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21063464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: The two nations marry off their excess nobles.





	Backups

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Ravus is _so_ offended. For once, he can’t even entirely blame King Regis. He was absolutely furious when Regis had the nerve to skip right over his own son and offer up _some peasant_, like that’s all that Ravus is worth, but it was equally as despicable for the emperor to accept that. Iedolas should have retorted: _No. Give us your prince, or the deal’s off._

A part of Ravus, deep down, knows that Iedolas did the same thing and first. They suggested Ravus as a silver medal, a lesser option to Lunafreya, who’s not only friendlier to Lucis but _the Oracle._ Of course she’s worth more. He understands that. But Ravus is at least still a _lord_. If the Lucians can’t provide someone of equal stature, what’s even the point of a political marriage? Ravus fails to see how wedding him, a virtual ward of the Empire, to some random Lucian will mean anything at all.

Iedolas has said that Ignis Scientia is practically King Regis’ ward, but _practically_ doesn’t mean anything, and Iedolas says a lot of shit that isn’t true. Ravus holds his tongue anyway. Iedolas is a monster, but he’s less monstrous than Regis. At least Iedolas doesn’t _pretend_ to be anything but a dictator. 

The only silver lining is that Luna’s safe. She gets to stay at home, safe and protected, while Ravus arrives with the Imperial delegation in Lucis’ capital city. He sneers at the glaive that opens the door of their car, and he eyes each Crownsguard they pass with an air of disgust. Iedolas doesn’t pay any of them any looks at all. He hobbles forward at a clipped pace, their limited party thick around him. They walk the long carpet that’s been rolled out for them. There is no music, no confetti, but Ravus thinks he can hear bitter crowds in the distance. The courtyard before the Citadel is barren, save for guards. Iedolas mutters under his breath, “You’ll behave, I trust?”

Ravus grits his teeth. He’s dying to hiss _no_. But if he isn’t sold this way, Luna might be. And in a way, even though it’s incredibly insulting, he’s glad that he won’t have to marry Noctis. Whatever Lucian marriage he accepts will be a sham, something held together only for brief public appearances, but he couldn’t stomach even that much with Regis’ flesh and blood. He just hopes the man he’s given won’t be as infuriating. He assumes that man won’t be able to bear children. He can’t help but wonder if they offered him a man not out of a lack of options, but to be sure this obviously doomed-to-fail union wouldn’t produce any half-breed heirs. Iedolas presses, “_Ravus._”

Ravus growls, “Yes, Emperor.” 

Iedolas seems satisfied by the lie and doesn’t ask again.

They reach the foot of the stairs. They begin ascending the Citadel’s long entranceway, the king himself standing at the top. Prince Noctis is nowhere to be found. 

A man stands next to Regis, tall and trim, hands folded neatly behind his back and posture perfect. He’s dressed in a tight-fitting suit that highlights his slender figure and the strong jut of his shoulders. His ash-brown hair has been styled upwards, and thin glasses frame his eyes. He has an angular, handsome face. The closer Ravus gets, the more he realizes that he’s staring. 

They finally reach the top. Ravus bows as much as he can stand, but Iedolas doesn’t bend at all. The attractive man at Regis’ side dips into a full, proper bow with the elegance of a dancer. When he straightens out again, his eyes are only for Ravus.

“It’s good to see you, Emperor,” Regis greets, voice friendly but controlled. Iedolas nods his head. 

“And you, Regis. Is this the groom you offer?”

Regis gestures sideways. “Yes. This is Ignis Scientia, my son’s advisor, a prized member of my council, and nearly a son to me. I could offer you no better.” Except Noctis, of course, but no one points that out.

Iedolas extends his arm and returns, “You know Lord Ravus already. His accomplishments need no introduction.” Ravus would still like to hear them, but Iedolas doesn’t say any more. Regis nods his acceptance. 

He turns towards the grand doors and offers, “Let me escort you in.” Iedolas is already following him.

Ravus doesn’t follow immediately, because Ignis is offering his hand. Ravus takes it, locking around Ignis’ slim fingers and noting the strength held in his grip. Ignis smoothly tells him, in a voice too low to carry to the others, “I am pleased to meet you, Lord Ravus. While I have no intention of being a submissive chess piece to either you or your empire, I want you to know that I bear you no ill will for this arrangement, and I look forward to getting to know you better.”

Ravus doesn’t know what to say. He can feel his mouth twisting in a frown, but he’s not _displeased._ Just wary. Even Ignis’ voice is alluring: sophisticated but grounded. Ravus is impressed. 

Ravus is _interested._ Which is saying something. He agrees, “You as well.” Ignis dons a thin smile that makes him look both clever and bizarrely fuckable. Ravus pulls his hand away.

They follow their respective masters into the Citadel, Ravus no longer scowling quite as deeply as before.


End file.
